Page 2 of Next to You

I considered walking home. But walking alone alongside a dark and frigid mountain road was never a good idea. Heck, standing out here was probably stupid. I mean, I’d seen enough horror movies throughout my life to know absolutely everything about my current situation was precarious.

My grandma once told me I could light up a room, and we all know what happens to people who could do that.

I was in prime serial killer hunting grounds right now. My cousin Remy was a forest ranger. Get a few beers into him down at Twilight Trails Tavern, and he’d start spitting all kinds of forest facts that no one wanted to hear about.

Do you know how many bodies are found here each year?I shuddered at the thought. The Mt. Hood National Forest was pretty much a graveyard for hikers with no sense of direction, people who a rabid animal had attacked—seriously, watch out for squirrels, they aren’t your friends—and victims of who knew what kind of crimes. They’d also found abandoned cars out here too—like mine. I was so screwed.

My heart rate skyrocketed as I contemplated how much trouble I was in. It was so freaking cold, and I was not dressed to be outside like this—my mother’s lectures about proper winter attire echoed in my head as I rubbed my cold hands over myupper arms and tried to stop my teeth from chattering. I blew into my hands and looked helplessly up the road.

I was not about to become some frostbitten dead body to be discovered by Ranger Remy and his buds on one of their hikes, then told as a drunken warning story in a bar. No way, not this girl.

I climbed back into the driver’s seat and locked the door to wait for help. Snow was melting in my hair; the icy drip of it went down the back of my hoodie, and I shivered. All I had to warm myself with was a ratty old blanket in the back seat. With a reach, I grabbed it and wrapped myself up. The twin olfactory delights of motor oil and dirty tire odor assaulted me as I inhaled a deep breath to calm my ricocheting heartbeat.

I looked up as sloppy, wet snowflakes plopped on my windshield.

A light dusting of snow, my ass.

This was not supposed to be happening right now. The weather report was wrong. I trusted you, Skipper McFadden! If I survived, I would send a strongly worded letter to him and his team of so-called meteorologists. I swear I could see ice forming on the road.

Hopefully, someone I knew would stop, and I could convince them to keep my tragic little dating foray out of the town gossip circles—the Honeybrook Hollow busybodies would have a field day with this. I also said a silent prayer that I didn’t lose the rest of my mind while I waited for help or for my cell signal to come back. The power must be out. Or a cell phone tower or whatever. Frustration got the better of me, and I slammed my hand on the center console.

The last thing I needed was for word of this to get out. My mother was already overprotective. I mean, I was thirty-three years old, a fully grown woman, and she still gave me crap if I didn’t text her every evening to say goodnight and let her know Iwas still alive. The thought of me stranded on the side of the road all night in the dark might give her a heart attack.

Hopefully someone from Cassidy’s Automotive would happen to drive by in one of their tow trucks, and I could give them an extra big tip in exchange for their silence. They were known to cruise these roads in their huge trucks all winter. Each year, they made a killing by pulling people out of snowbanks and ditches and towing them to safety. They served the entire area from Sweetbriar to Honeybrook Hollow and all the way up the mountain to the Timberline Lodge.

Just as long as it wasn’t Spencer.

Spencer Cassidy and I were in the same grade all through school, except for first grade, and I’d had a tiny, little, hopeless crush on him since forever. I had to be losing it if I was thinking of him right now.

He was that old high school crush that never went away but had gotten worse as an adult, probably because the fantasy I’d built up of him in my mind was so much better than my reality. Add to that, he’d only seemed to get more handsome as the years went on—taller, broader, more muscular. And his blue eyes? Irresistible. We rarely spoke beyond a “Hey, how are you?” But after each interaction, I always ended up kicking myself for not letting him know I was into him.

Well, at least if I were close to death, my last memory would be a happy one. Ahh, Spencer Cassidy, you have no idea how much you have unwittingly impacted my life.

I heaved out a huge sigh and rechecked my phone. No bars. No help. No hope.

Except…

I spun in my seat as headlights in the distance behind me lit up my car. I slowly turned to watch as they passed, slowed down, and backed up to stop in front of my vehicle. I stared into the glare—dare I get my hopes up?

I squinted into the light. It was a red tow truck, and the Cassidy’s Automotive logo was emblazoned in bright white script across the rear. My salvation was near. I could feel it in my partially frozen bones.

YES!

All the Cassidy trucks were painted fire engine red, and there was no mistaking them around here.

It looked like I wouldn’t freeze to death tonight, after all. I let out a massive sigh of relief and counted to ten as I attempted to gather my thoughts and contain my almost panic attack.

I watched as a man, tall and broad, got out. As he headed my way, I decided I didn’t even care if it was Spencer. All I wanted was to go home, run as hot a bath as I could stand, and finally eat these damn tacos. Cold or not, it would be the best snack of my life.

Thetap, tap, tapon the window sent a surge of anticipatory awareness through my body as I watched, squinting into the glare of the taillights as he got closer and closer until?—

Of course.

It was Spencer and not one of his brothers or even his father.

Okay, I admit it. I lied.

I did care that it was himso much.